


Group Cuddle

by LetMeEntertainYou



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Depression, Fluff, Gen, group cuddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 20:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetMeEntertainYou/pseuds/LetMeEntertainYou
Summary: Brian wouldn’t believe that no matter how many times they said it. Every time he came late to a session or messed up a chord or couldn’t write a song, he felt like the world’s worst person. Depression isn’t all that bad, he’d think to himself. I’m messing up because I’m lazy and don’t take this seriously. And they hate me for it.





	Group Cuddle

**Author's Note:**

> My blog is Queen-Disabled-HC on tumblr  
> Anon asked: Brian’s depression acting up and the boys having to remind him that he never is and never will be a burden.

“I- oh you guys- this is all too much now, isn’t it?” Brian said, struggling weakly.

“Of course not. This is the perfect amount of…this.” Roger said, nuzzling his head obnoxiously into Brian’s curls.

“Exactly. And we’ll do this until we all die or you get it through your thick skull that we perhaps love you,” Freddie said, wriggling about.

John didn’t say anything because it looked like he was enjoying himself too much.

Brian had come into the studio that morning, depression beard in all it’s glory. He dropped his guitar case onto the floor and slumped against a couch, mind clearly miles and miles away from the rest of them.

He shuffled and lagged as he went about the motions, trying his best to be a productive member in a band but failing despite his best efforts. 

This wasn’t lost on the others as they watched what appeared to be Brian’s corpse move about. They all knew he struggled with depression on and off. They knew of his struggles with that beast and the toll it took on him.

Although none of them had any training in the mental health field, they always tried their best to comfort and support their guitarist. John would bring food over randomly because they were all sure he wasn’t eating very much. Roger would take him on outings, even if it was just a walk through the neighborhood. And Freddie would stay up on the phone with him at night, a night owl himself, to make sure everything was alright. That he was safe.

None of them could complain about Brian. He was their brother after all. When he hurt, they hurt. He wasn’t a burden on the band, not in the slightest.

Brian wouldn’t believe that no matter how many times they said it. Every time he came late to a session or messed up a chord or couldn’t write a song, he felt like the world’s worst person.  _Depression isn’t all that bad_ , he’d think to himself.  _I’m messing up because I’m lazy and don’t take this seriously. And they hate me for it_.

They didn’t and they never would, but Brian wasn’t easy to convince.

So as he sat, slumped on that couch, sighing, eye bags black and purple, he mumbled out an apology to the others. They didn’t deserve such a horrible member like him. He needed to apologize.

Freddie’s mouth dropped, eyes growing wide. 

“Brian, love, stop saying sorry for nothing. You’re ruining your karma,” he said as he sat down besides Brian, a hand giving the other’s knee a squeeze.

Brian just shrugged his shoulder, mumbling something about Freddie not lying.

“But it’s true? Why in the hell would you think we’d want you to apologize for this? As if you had any control over it?” Roger said, eyebrows furrowed as he approached the two and also sat on the couch. 

“I dunno. I just feel like I could be doing better. Getting better. But I’m not and it’s hurting you guys,” Brian said with another sigh.

“If you could will yourself better, I don’t think depression would be much of a thing mate,” John said, last to join the rest on the couch. 

Brian threw his hands in the air frustrated before rubbing them into his face. He felt guilty. What the hell was he supposed to do about it?

That was it, Freddie thought.

“We love you, Brian May. Love you to bits. And we’ll fight this with you, no matter how long it takes to recover. You hear me?” Freddie declared before wrapping his hands around the lanky Brian and squeezing tight.

It didn’t take long for Roger to get the hint and also hug Brian. There really wasn’t much room for John to join in on the hug, Brian being so slight, so he settled for throwing himself across Brian’s lap and snuggling in like that.

And that’s how all four members of Queen ended up in a massive cuddle pile because boundaries can get fucked. 

“John, what on earth are you doing?” Brian asked, trying his best to breathe the weight of his band.

“Tying your shoes,” John said matter of factly, all draped over Brian’s legs.

“Why wo- Roger are you sniffing my hair?”

“No, that’s me. It smells awful, darling,” Freddie said, twirling one of Brian’s curls around his finger. 

“‘Cuz I haven’t washed it in a while. Roger, can you stop whatever you are doing,”

“I haven’t done a single thing. I’m the only one behaving here!”

“No, no, that’s me again,” John said as he fixed Brian’s pant cuffs which were rolled up all wonky. 

“Oh sweet jesus. You all win! Your love for me is eternal! I feel it! Off!” Brian said, shimming and wiggling his best but to no avail.

“While I agree with you, I’m quite enjoying this,” Roger said, already all comfortable snuggled up to Brian. 

Freddie hummed in agreement, head on Brian’s shoulder, his grip unwavering.

Somehow John was fast asleep.

Brian grumbled but secretly appreciated this. Human warmth and a chance to take a nap when they should be recording. Maybe they really did love him.


End file.
